The Beast Without
by GirlX2
Summary: My idea of how Beast could be intro'd in X3. Edited and reposted due to facual Errors. This was all written prior to the movie's release


I obviously don't own the X-Men, so don't sue me. This is a repost, because the first time I wrote this story I knew very little about Beast. The small factual errors have now been fixed. ;)

The Beast Without

By GirlX2

"…And if you ignore the social connotations, the theory is sound." Dr. Hank McCoy finished his lecture amid gentle laughter from his students. "Any questions?"

A student sitting three rows back raised his hand. Hank sighed inwardly.

"Yes, Jake?"

"Professor, when you went to the mutant conferences, you said mutation was the next evolutionary step. If that's so, why isn't everyone mutated?"

"Evolution is a slow process. Many people alive today will never even possess the genes necessary. Others are merely carriers, they will never-"

"But then, why are the leaps so great? Why can a mother do nothing, but her son have the power to-to blow up a car?" Jake argued. "The evidence suggests genetic weakness, not a new link. Its more of a sickness, like aids."

"Jake, we're not here to debate weather or not mutations are a link or the new HIV." Hank felt his face grow slightly red. A sudden ulcer-like pain in his stomach made him wince. Snickers abounded in the cavern-like classroom. A bell rang in the hall. "Class dismissed."

The students all stood and began to collect papers. Hank sighed and retreated to his office. He horridly gulped down two antacid tablets.

The conference he'd attended had earned him a lot of flack from the students and staff alike. One professor, in his eighth year of tenure, had called him a hippie-mutant sympathizer. In the last few days, stress induced pains had attacked his stomach.

'If only old Joe McCarthy was around, we'd see much worse then the investigation committee.' He mused. A knock caught his attention.

"Come in."

Jake entered.

"Yes, Jake, is there something I can do for you?" Hank gritted his teeth in a frozen smile.

"Are you alright Professor?" False sympathy played across the boy's rat-like face.

"Oh yes, just a bit to much to eat, I think."

"Oh." The look faded. "Well, I just wanted to talk with you more about your opinion on the mutant problem."

"Yes. What about it?"

Jake began to pace a bit nervously. "You're a pretty important guy Prof. You're scheduled to be on another mutant panel, right?"

"In two weeks."

"Well, if you were to tell the truth about the mutant menace-from a strictly scientific standpoint of course,-"

"Of course." Hank said coldly.

"You know, how there's a lot more of them than people think, and how dangerous they are, you could really do a lot of good."

"A lot of good for whom, Jake? I'm rather surprised that you've taken such a strong position on a topic you're so uninformed about." Hank grimaced as the pain in his stomach returned.

"Well, Professor, its just that, these mutants _are _pretty dangerous. When I become a doctor, I don't want to have those people strolling into my office without my knowledge. Would you?" A callow, knowing smile graced his lips.

"It would make no difference. This is America, Jake, and everyone is entitled to their privacy, and personal rights to good healthcare." Rage boiled in his stomach.

"I can get you donations for your research." Jake said quietly. "My father-"

"Jake, I don't care if your father is the surgeon general. Get out of my office." Hank growled.

"What?" Surprise flowered on the boy's face.

"Leave my office before I fail you."

Surprise turned slowly to anger. "You're making a big mistake."

"Get out of my office. I will not listen to threats, especially from the likes of you!" Hank started to rise, but doubled over in pain. He clutched his stomach.

"Professor!" Jake said in alarm.

Hank groaned in pain. His stomach felt like it was being stretched in a rack. He moaned, as the pain turned his vision white.

"Oh my God!" Jake cried out.

The Doctor writhed in agony on the floor. His clothes seemed to cling to him, his tie choking. He heard ripping, then the pressure lifted. The horrible stretching feeling continued. He gaped for breath.

"Oh God." Jakes voice floated through the ether. Hank finally opened his eyes.

Jake had pressed himself against the opposite wall. Terror glazed his features.

"Its alright Jake. I think it was a mild arrhythmia." Hank forced calmness into his voice. The pain was fading.

"Stay away from me." Jake whimpered and edged toward the door.

"What?"

"Keep away from me." Jake scrabbled for the knob.

"What's the matt-"

Jake found the knob, opened the door and fled.

Hank shakily rose to his feet, bashing his head against his desk lamp.

"Son of a…" The Ph D. trailed off. He down at his hands in shock.

An unnatural electric blue had stained his skin. As he turned his hands palms down, he could see blue fur growing from the back, traveling up his arms.

"Oh my God." He echoed Jake's statement weakly.

What he could see of his body was completely covered in the thick blue fur. Shreds of his pants remained, thankfully, but the rest of his clothes had been ripped away.

"Impossible." His voice seemed the same. Shakily, the man sat on his desk chair.

'This has to be a dream.' He breathed deeply. 'Jake was never here. I'm still in bed…

'Jake.'

Alarm rose within him. There were panicked cries coming from the hallway.

'I've got to get out of here.' He scanned the room for exits. Only a small window leading to the quad. He'd never fit through it before this puzzling transformation, and now it was unthinkable.

"The mutant's in here!" Jake's voice cried out in the hall. "Professor McCoy is a mutant!"

Fear rolled over him. 'I've got to get out of here. They'll lynch me if I don't.'

He gingerly pried the window open. Perhaps he could bend the frame…

The window pulled free from the wall, opening a huge space. Hank stared stupidly at the wooden frame in his gorilla-like paw.

"In here!" The yells brought him back. Tossing aside the window, he bashed through the hole, pulling more of the wall away as he went.

Several students littered the quad. A girl pointed to him, and began to scream. The other began to run.

"I'm not going to hurt anyone!" Hank yelled desperately after them.

"Mutant!" Screams arose from behind him, as well as in front. He began to run, a long loping gate. He stumbled, fell to all fours, and to his great surprise, ran much faster.

'What's happening to me?' He wondered, watching students scatter in terror at his approach. He looked wildly for somewhere-anywhere-that he could hide.

He approached the football field. A space was open under the bleachers. Hurriedly, he squeezed under them, hoping that no one had seen him.

'Yes, I'm sure no one saw a furry blue…something running across the football field!' He mind snapped sarcastically.

He panted in the dark, trying to catch his breath. Yells were still coming from the quad, but they didn't seem to be getting closer. He'd lost them.

'For the moment anyway. I can't stay under here forever.' He thought gloomily.

He peered through the slats, watching the angry mob that had assembled, slowly work their way closer to the bleachers.

'I'm a mutant.' The thought came with a remarkable calm. He sat in an ape-like squat. Whatever he'd become was clearly more beast than man.

'I should at least try to talk to them. Maybe…'

A gunshot fired off.

'Oh God.' He watched in horror as several men waved pistols in the air. They were going to kill him.

Hank drew back as far as he could. His indigo pelt seemed to glow neon-bright in the dark.

'I'm going to die.' The realization struck .

'Doctor McCoy I presume?' An alien presence invaded his mind. Fear seized him, and he scrabbled desperately backwards in the dirt.

'One moment, and we'll talk face-to-face.'

The angry cries stopped. A quiet whirr approached the opening of the bleachers. The Doctor pressed himself against the wall, trying to become as small as possible, with little luck.

"It's alright Doctor. We're here to help." The same voice that had entered his head now spoke aloud. A wheelchair occupied by a bald man appeared. The man smiled at him.

"Oh. No wonder their up in arms about you." A pleasant British accent greeted him.

"Who are you?" Hank asked quietly.

"I'm Charles Xavier." A hint of a smile graced the man's face. "I'm also a great admirer of your work, Doctor. The piece you did on mutant genetics was particularly fascinating."

"I…um…Thank you." Hank stammered.

"Please come into the light. You're perfectly safe now."

"There's about twenty people out there with guns, ready to shoot me."

"I've…delayed them." Xavier mused. "And I would like to talk to you face to face."

"Why?"

"Actually, I'd like to offer you a job, Doctor McCoy. I run a school for people like us, and we're in desperate need of qualified teachers."

Hank's mind reeled. "You're joking."

"I can assure you I'm not."

"Professor X-" Another voice began. The man waved an hand, silencing the other person.

"Well?"

Hank slowly walked out, half-fearing a trap.

A young man with a red visor stood next to Xavier. The rest of the campus was quiet. People stood perfectly still, some in mid-yell.

"You…You did this?"

"I'm a telepath, Doctor McCoy. A nice ability for situations such as this. Oh, by the way, this is Scott Summers, a once student, and now teacher at Xavier's school for Gifted Youths."

"Hello Doctor." The young man said, somewhat stiffly. One hand remained on the visors edge.

He could see his face reflected in the red visor. It was still his own-the color distortion made him appear purple. Dog-like ears had replaced his own. Fur grew on his cheeks. Hank took a deep breath.

"You're change was particularly traumatic. I'm sorry for that Doctor."

"I didn't know I was a mutant." He said absentmindedly. "I've been having stomach pains lately…had a bad attack in the office. When it stopped I was…Well, you can see."

"Would you care to come back to the school for a tour?" Xavier gestured to a personal jet parked on the football field.

Hank slowly looked over the plane. He turned back to the two men.

"I think I will, Mr. Xavier."

"Charles."

"Charles." McCoy repeated, smiling slightly.

The End

Constructive feedback is loved and welcomed.


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